Enabling the antidynasty mandate
In provinces where a single surname fills nearly every line of the ballot, it becomes clear why one constitutional mandate has been ignored for 37 years. Article II, Section 26 of the 1987 Constitution orders the State to “prohibit political dynasties as may be defined by law.” Yet Congress—populated by members of political clans—has never passed that law. A safeguard meant to protect democracy is still stalled by those who benefit most from its absence.
But the Constitution was never meant to wait on the convenience of lawmakers. The antidynasty provision is not a decorative clause. It is embedded in a broader constitutional framework that demands fairness, accountability, and limits on the concentration of power. Read as a whole, the Charter already empowers institutions beyond Congress to act—at least partially—even without an enabling law.
The republic cannot grind to a halt just because legislators refuse to regulate themselves.
Political dynasties are not an abstract concern. They are families whose members hold elective office simultaneously or in succession, often rotating positions to evade term limits. The framers of the Constitution knew this pattern well. Records of the 1986 Constitutional Commission debates show that they viewed dynasties as corrosive to democracy—shrinking political choice and entrenching privilege.
Research has since borne this out. Studies by scholars affiliated with Ateneo de Manila University and other institutions consistently show that areas dominated by political dynasties tend to have higher poverty and weaker development outcomes. A widely cited 2013 study found that dynasties entrench themselves most deeply in poor provinces, reinforcing inequality over time. A May 2025 report by the Philippine Institute for Development Studies showed that roughly eight in 10 governors, two-thirds of members of Congress, and a majority of mayors belong to political dynasties.
The usual defense is that nothing can be done until Congress acts. That is convenient—but incomplete. While the Commission on Elections (Comelec) cannot impose a blanket ban without legislation, the Constitution already tasks it with ensuring elections that are “free, orderly, honest, peaceful, and credible.”
Within its existing authority, the Comelec can already require disclosure of familial relationships among candidates, tighten substitution rules that shield political clans, regulate coordinated campaigning that skews the playing field, and investigate vote-buying or coercion linked to entrenched family control.
Dynastic advantage is often built locally. Under the Local Government Code, local government units (LGUs) can pass ordinances to curb the misuse of public funds, enhance transparency, and limit partisan involvement of barangay officials during elections. They cannot disqualify candidates based on kinship, but they can reduce the structural advantages that keep challengers out.
National laws already reinforce this. The Anti-Graft and Corrupt Practices Act and the Code of Conduct and Ethical Standards prohibit public officials from using their positions to benefit relatives.
Yes, political pressure and elite influence make enforcement difficult. But difficulty does not excuse constitutional abdication.
When Congress fails to give effect to clear constitutional design, the Supreme Court has intervened. It did so in Banat v. Comelec to correct distortions in the party list system. It did so again in Atong Paglaum to realign participation with constitutional intent. These were not acts of judicial overreach; they were acts of restoring constitutional integrity.
The same logic applies here. Extreme dynastic monopolies—where one family controls most or all elective positions in a locality—can be challenged as violations of equal protection, equal opportunity, republicanism, and the principle that public office is a public trust. Courts need not ban dynasties outright to act. Setting enforceable standards against the most abusive configurations would already change the political landscape.
Civil society initiatives—from long-standing reform coalitions to local antidynasty rules in the Bangsamoro—show that public pressure can move institutions. What is missing is not authority but resolve.
Comelec can act before the next election. LGUs can act now. Citizens can demand transparency, support reform movements, and vote against entrenched dynasties. Courts can clarify constitutional limits when called upon.
Political dynasties thrive not only because Congress stalls, but because other institutions fail to act.
The Constitution promised Filipinos equal access to public service. Politics must serve the public, not families. And if Congress will not act, the rest of the Republic must. A free people cannot remain free when political power is inherited like property.
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Pedro “Pete” Maniego Jr. is a trustee of the Justice Reform Initiative, senior policy advisor of the Institute for Climate and Sustainable Cities, and former chair of the Institute of Corporate Directors, University of the Philippines Engineering Research & Development Foundation, Energy Lawyers Association of the Philippines, UP Barkada, and National Renewable Energy Board.
